


Every Move You Make

by sunniskies



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, a little bit of angst, but in a cute way, but really just mostly fluff, harry will always be louis' baby, louis is a tiny bit overprotective
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-23
Updated: 2014-02-23
Packaged: 2018-01-13 12:10:17
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,704
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1225759
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunniskies/pseuds/sunniskies
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the debacle at the Brits, Louis decides he needs to keep better track of Harry.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Every Move You Make

Harry knows he’ll never live it down.  Niall spent the rest of the evening after they claimed their Brits breaking into hysterical laughter every time he looked at Harry, a progressively drunker Liam kept poking his side asking him if he needed a “wee’”, and Zayn couldn’t stop sending him little teasing smirks over the interviewer’s shoulders. Louis was the worst though, he kept even closer to Harry’s side than he’d usually risk with all the cameras, gripping his hand tightly backstage and making sure Harry stayed in his eyeline for the rest of the night. “Gonna have to put a GPS on you won’t I, love?” Louis whispered into his ear while everyone was applauding for Beyonce and Harry just grinned back with a hopeless shrug. 

Thankfully, after the show Louis is too distracted kissing him out of his suit for the subject to come up again. In fact they don’t say much of anything while they channel all their post-show high into each other, until they’re both naked and Harry’s got his head cradled against Louis’ heaving chest. Harry traces the blooming red of a lovebite he just sucked onto Louis’ neck with a light finger.

“That was nice,” he decides, kissing Louis’ collarbones because he can.

“Understatement, Haz,” Louis murmurs, his eyes still closed in a post-orgasam haze. His fingers are gently combing through Harry’s curls and Harry tries not to purr too much. “You’d think we’d be tired of that by now.”

“Oh? You don’t want to have sex anymore?” Harry lifts his head up, a dimpley grin spreading across his face.

“Shut it you twat,” Louis grumbles, smacking Harry’s ass lightly. Harry giggles and buries his head back into the solidity of Louis’ chest, and Louis runs a hand slowly up and down his back, rubbing his fingers over the curve of Harry’s spine.

“Babe can I see your phone?” Louis asks after tracing the angles of Harry’s shoulder blades for a while.

Harry whines a little at the prospect of moving, but reaches out one of his helpfully long arms to grab his phone from the bedside table, trying not the crush Louis too much with his weight as he stretches across him. “Here,” he says, slipping his phone into Louis’ hand and resuming his position with his ear pressed against Louis heart.

“Thanks,” Louis mumbles and starts fiddling with it as Harry listens to the gentle hum of his breath. Harry’s phone is Louis’ phone and vice-versa, so he doesn’t really care what he’s up to. They stopped having secrets from each other about three years ago; Harry knows it all--from every plane of Louis’ body to the thoughts that wake him up with a jolt at four in the morning. And likewise Louis knows exactly what type of tea to brew Harry at any given moment, knows how to make Harry shiver with just one graze of his fingertips. So although the media makes them out to be barely friends anymore, they’re kind of one and the same now, LouisandHarry to everyone they know.

“There,” Louis says, tossing the phone back onto the nightstand. “Now I can’t lose you anymore.” 

“Hm?” Harry breathes, distracted by the way Louis’ scratching against his scalp makes a balloon of warmth rise in his chest.

“I put a new app on your phone. Tells me where you are.”

“You what?” Harry lifts his head at that, and peers at Louis through sleepy eyes. “Isn’t that a little...much?”

Louis shifts to his side so that he can pull Harry up against him tightly. They still spoon like this often, even though Harry insists he clearly should be the big spoon for simple logistical reasons. Louis usually just tells him to shut up and cuddles him anyway.

“Didn’t like not knowing where you were,” Louis mumbles into his hair, and the echo of his breath on the back of his neck makes Harry’s heart jump a beat.

“I was just in the loo, Lou. Haha, loo-Lou.”

Harry can practically hear Louis rolling his eyes. “It’s the principle of the thing, love. What if I need to find you one day? What if you set yourself on fire again?”

“That was one time, and you can stop mentioning it, thanks.”

Louis laughs. “Let’s just sleep, Haz. I’m sure I’ll never need it.”

“You’re so overprotective,” Harry grumbles, but snuggles deeper into Louis’ arms.

“Mhmm,” Louis breathes, and it isn’t long before Harry slips off into a snug, heavy sleep.

 

+++

 

The next day Harry’s picking through the apples at Tesco with a beanie pulled low over his hair in some semblance of anonymity, when his phone buzzes in his pocket with a text from Louis. It’s probably kind of ridiculous that he’s assigned a special vibration to Louis, but then again they’ve done much worse. The time Louis brought home a four-foot chocolate statue of Harry he found in a random candy shop comes to mind. Although they did find some rather creative uses for it, which ended in them having to throw out yet another set of sheets.

 **Louis** : _get some more yorkshire please love_

Harry frowns, he hadn’t told Louis he was going to the store, he’d just popped in quickly on his way back from Bikram yoga.

 **Harry:** _will do. how’d you know i’m here? x_

 **Louis:** _i have my ways ;)_

 **Harry:** _ugh you’re stalking me with that app aren’t you? x_

 **Louis:** _maybe. tea please! if our stock runs out i might collapse._  

 **Harry:** _such a drama queen. be home in 10 babe xxx._

 **Louis:** _love you_

Harry shakes his head and pockets his phone, picking out a few particularly shiny apples and loping over to the tea aisle. He doesn’t know how to feel about Louis tracking his every move. It’s not like Louis doesn’t know where he is 99% of the time anyways, if they’re not glued to the hip Harry’s gone doing publicity or Louis is in training. But it still feels a little weird, like Louis is keeping tabs on him or something. He’d always liked that Louis was sort of obsessively protective over him, but somehow this feels different.

He pushes the thought out of his mind anyway, buying the largest box of Yorkshire tea possible (he swears they need to start ordering it in bulk) and tossing the shopping bags in the back of the Range Rover. His fingers drum idly across the wheel as he drives the familiar road back home, picturing the soft and cuddly morning Louis waiting for him.

Louis doesn’t disappoint, his hair feathery and sticking out wildly as he hunches over a cup of tea at the kitchen island. Harry brushes his lips to the side of his face after dumping the groceries on the counter, murmuring against his cheek, “Morning, Lou.” 

Louis kind of grunts in response, but tilts his head up so Harry can kiss him properly, sucking Harry’s bottom lip rather forcefully for someone supposedly half-asleep. Harry gets spinach omelets started for them when they finish kissing each other breathless, and hums “More than This” to himself as he shimmies around the stove. Louis laughs quietly at him, watching him over his mug of steaming tea, and Harry tries not to get too distracted by the length of Louis’ eyelashes dusting over his cheeks. After breakfast they slip into the shower together, and as Harry shampoos Louis hair idly while hot water drums over their slick bodies, he decides it’s a very good morning indeed.

 

+++

 

The next time it happens, Harry is pulling out a few pounds from the ATM around the corner from bakery where he’d just picked up some fresh dinner rolls for the two of them.

 **Louis:** _i need some cash too love_

Harry glares at his phone, frustration rising quickly in his chest. He doesn’t mind picking up extra money for Louis, there’s not much he minds doing for him really, but the knowledge that he’s been watching him makes his throat feel tight.

 **Harry:** _fine_

There’s a pause before his phone buzzes again.

 **Louis:** _you alright babe?_

Harry decides not to answer, shoving his phone away and sighing as he pushes his card back into the machine to get a few more pounds.

Louis has his feet propped up on their oak coffee table when Harry returns a few minutes later, some football match or another lighting up the TV. “You didn’t answer my text,” Louis calls while Harry shrugs out of his coat and hangs it up in the hallway closet.

“Yeah, was driving sorry,” Harry grunts, wrestling his boots off and padding into their bedroom. He falls face-first across the mattress and takes a few steadying breaths into the ridiculously expensive comforter Louis had insisted on buying them for Christmas. Harry hates how close he feels to tears already, sometimes it just takes just the tiniest things to make him cry and he’s never been able to truly control it.

“Hey.” Harry jumps a little when a hand falls onto the middle of his back and starts rubbing circles there. Louis’ weight sinks on the bed and Harry knows he’s staring down at him. “What’s wrong Hazza?”

“Nothing,” Harry replies, his voice muffled in the mattress. 

“Don’t suffocate yourself babe,” Louis chuckles lightly, and guides Harry to flip over with his hands at his waist.

Harry gazes up at Louis’ half-smiling, half-concerned face, his vision a little blurry at the edges so that the blue of Louis’ eyes swims in front of him. Louis leans down and kisses the side of his mouth, running a thumb down Harry’s jawline. He pulls back, lightly brushing his nose against Harry’s before looking seriously at him. “What’s wrong?”

Louis’ unbrushed fringe is falling messily into his eyes, and Harry reaches up to sweep it back. Louis smiles at the touch and a familiar warmth rises in Harry’s stomach despite all of his other swirling emotions. “I dunno, that GPS thing I guess,” Harry mumbles, dropping his hand and closing his eyes tiredly.

“What?” Harry squints his eyes open to see Louis frowning down at him. “What do you mean?”

Harry sighs and pulls himself up to lean against the headboard, avoiding Louis’ gaze. “Dunno. Feels like you’re stalking me.”

“I thought that was a joke?”

“Well, yeah, it was. But I mean c’mon Louis. I’m 20 years old, you don’t need to track my every movement,” Harry says exasperatedly, voice tight and eyes still prickling dangerously.

“Well it’s not like I sit around staring at where you are,” Louis bites back and there’s suddenly a sharpness to his tone that flairs whenever he flips into defensive mode.

“Sure seems like it,” Harry sighs.

“Well if I had known you’d get into a strop over twenty pounds I wouldn’t have asked.”

“It’s not about the money, Lou.”

“Well, whatever Harry, call me when you decide to stop being such a prat,” Louis spits, and jumps off the bed to grab a hoodie and a football. “I’m going out back.”

He huffs out the room, and Harry can hear the loud slam of the back door all the way from the bedroom. Louis always goes to play football on their private pitch whenever he’s upset, but it doesn’t stop Harry from feeling terrible as tears finally spill over his cheeks. He curls into a ball, breath shuddering haphazardly. Fighting with Louis is his least favorite thing.

 

+++

 

Darkness is seeping into the bedroom when Harry wakes up. He’s still curled up and he can tell from the coldness of the sheets that Louis hasn’t been back. Scrubbing at his awfully swollen eyes, he pulls himself out of bed and tugs an old jumper over his head at the sudden chill in the air.

He shuffles down the hallway and pauses at the glass doors to the backyard, squinting to see if Louis is still on the pitch. He can just make out a small figure sat in the middle of field, talking on his phone animatedly, and Harry wonders if Louis cares about their fight at all. That thought makes his vision blur again so he pushes it away, slumping toward the kitchen instead.

In a few minutes he’s got a variety of fruits and vegetables strewn across the counter and a pot of homemade chili bubbling on the stove. The smell is thick and familiar, and Harry falls into a stool at the counter instead of cleaning up his colorful mess. He likes making chili on nights when things don’t feel quite right, something about the aroma of it reminds him of home.

He doesn’t know how long he sits there staring at the simmering pot until the back door opens and closes quietly. The sound of Louis’ trainers against their wooden floors drifts down the hall, normally Harry would shout at him to take them off but he bites his lip anxiously instead. Louis walks into the kitchen and his cheeks are windburned red, his hair stuffed into a favorite frayed beanie. 

“Smells good,” Louis sighs, leaning against the island, looking fixedly at Harry.

“Thanks.” Harry pretends to be suddenly fascinated with a speck of dirt on the counter.

“Can we talk?”

Harry chances a glance up and it’s definitely the soft, kind Louis he knows gazing back at him, not the biting one from earlier. “Okay.”

Louis slips his fingers into his like they have a thousand times before, pulling Harry into the living room and onto the couch. He doesn’t drop their hands but settles in so that he’s facing Harry, squeezing his shoulder quickly with his free hand. 

“I talked to Zayn,” Louis says, flicking hair out of his eyes instinctively.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. He said I don’t communicate well, or some shit. But, um. I wanted to say a couple things.” Louis fusses with his beanie and Harry waits quietly for him to continue, letting the warmth from Louis’ palm seep into his from where they’re still connected.

“I’m sorry, Haz.” Louis says eventually. “I didn’t mean to yell at you, one; and two, I never meant for this app to be like a weird stalker-thing. I just...I mean, you know how I feel about you. And you know that I’ve always sort of felt like I’m the one looking out for you? Partially because of things like how you nearly dropped a knife on your foot the other day, but also because I mean, I love you. Like, a lot.

“And yeah, I don’t always like talk about how I feel about you, but you really freaked me out that night when I couldn’t find you. And, um I just sort of started imagining all of these horrid things and it was awful. Like--well, anyway that was why I got the app. Because I can’t stand losing you. Pathetic and as needy as that sounds.”

Louis finishes and looks back up at Harry. He hold Harry’s gaze in a clear way that drives home the honesty in his words. It always catches him off guard when Louis lays his feelings out there like this, for all the ways Harry knows Louis, talking about his emotions point-blank isn’t one of them. So Harry stretches his arms out and pulls Louis into him, nuzzling his head against the side of his and soaking up the familiar feel and smell of Louis. “I understand,” Harry breathes and Louis pulls back to look up at him.

“Do you?” Louis asks, a hint of desperation not quite hidden in his face.

“Yeah,” Harry murmurs, and Louis finally grins at that, cupping the back of Harry’s neck so he can push their lips together quickly. He kisses Harry slowly and firmly, like he’s going to spend forever discovering the curve of his mouth. And Harry can feel the weight that was dragging in his stomach fall away, replaced by butterflies that Louis still gives him three years later.

“I love you,” Louis says against his lips, his voice muffled and barely audible, but Harry knows the vibration of those words by heart.

“I love you too,” he whispers back, and realizes that no matter what, they’ll always come back to this.  

 

  


**Author's Note:**

> As always, I treasure kudos/comments. Thanks for reading lovely :) xx. 
> 
> I would love to be friends with you on [ tumblr ](http://foreverhazboo.tumblr.com)


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